The silence of meditation dissolved, not with a snap, but with an icy whisper that infiltrated Zack's mind. He opened his eyes, the weight of newly unearthed memories oppressing him. They were harsh recollections, fragments of a past he believed he had buried under layers of brutality and oblivion. The strangest thing, however, was not the pain they brought, but the feeling that they had disappeared from his mind for a time, only to resurface now, at such a critical moment. A series of long-dormant memories were returning, an avalanche of faces, voices, and feelings he had no time to process. The urgency of the situation prevented him from delving deeper into that strange phenomenon.
With an agile leap, Zack stood up, his muscles tense and ready for action. The city, once a labyrinth of shadows and hidden dangers, now pulsed with a strong and unmistakable aura. It was the source of the ritual, the epicenter of Skull's invocation. He needed to get there, and fast. His eyes, previously focused on introspection, now swept the horizon, seeking the most direct path to the heart of the darkness that was spreading.
As he ran across the rooftops, the sight unfolding below was both beautiful and terrifying. The eye hovering over the red moon had intensified, its crimson glow now almost blinding. The sky, once a black cloak, seemed to bend, distorted by the energy emanating from the city. Spiritual energy overflowed from every street, every alley, every building. But what shocked Zack most was not the intensity of the phenomenon, but the reaction of the citizens. They were not desperate, there was no panic. On the contrary, a strange calm, almost a religious ecstasy, hung over them.
Thousands of people knelt in the streets, their heads bowed in devotion, praying to the Vision. Through the windows of houses, entire families united in fervent prayers. The loud sound of voices, a chorus of thousands of people clamoring for their God, echoed through the city, a sound that was both hypnotizing and disturbing. The all-seeing eye, present and strong everywhere, was emerging, transforming the moon and sky into its personal domain. Cries of happiness, pleasure, and satisfaction were heard, a macabre symphony of blind devotion. Zack's despair was clear; he now understood the true scale of the situation. It wasn't the elders, nor the young couple. It was the entire city. The city was making the pact.
---
Zack stopped abruptly on a rooftop, the sight before him solidifying his despair. He pulled out a Ra scroll, his hands trembling slightly. "Orpheus, under Lyra's bed there's a basement, go in and take everyone. It's a direct order, if you don't, everyone will go insane!" The message was written with an urgency he rarely showed. His eyes, once filled with controlled fury, now held not a shred of hope. He already knew everything had gone wrong. Orpheus's reply came almost instantly, a simple and resigned "Okay, master."
From the balcony, Zack noticed that the city was emitting enough energy to summon something of Dragon rank. A bitter, sickly smile formed on his lips. "Now it all makes sense... The reason the Baby is in this godforsaken place, it didn't come here because it's an isolated city and continent." He laughed, a humorless laugh, full of irony. "The city hired the elders and the couple, the truth is that the city prepared for this ritual and in the end Tobi was just protecting the world... well, I ended up ruining everything."
The sky became a dazzling spectacle. Every star was visible to the naked eye, strong and bright like a sun, gathered in harmony, forming a giant eye that watched the earth. The climax of the red moon's light was strong as blood, pulsing with a sinister life. Every person in the city was struck and purified, as if their energy was being sucked, drained for a greater, darker purpose. In the main square, thousands of people knelt, so many it was impossible to count. And there, in the center, were crucified people. The scene was sickening, disgusting, and repulsive. Tortured and naked bodies, people from other continents subjugated like animals. The city, finally, showed its sick desire. There were 14 people being crucified, Red City soldiers shooting arrows at them, knives thrown, and fire cast. A ritual with precise details for a final climax. Among so many soldiers and crucified foreigners, there was a white crib on a stone, and there, surely, was the baby, receiving the energy of the entire city, a bad energy passed to a baby, receiving the blood of innocents.
"SHIT!!!" Zack screamed, despair tearing at his throat. "Damn it!! What do I do, fuck!!" He knew this was the end. Suddenly, a voice faltered beside him, laden with incredulous horror. "My God... this is a Skull ritual... Zack, we're going to die." Zack jumped back, startled. "Son of a bitch! What a fucking scare..." Tobi, without Zack noticing, had appeared beside him, with his usual calm, but with a disturbing glint in his eyes.
"My bad, brother. I had to analyze the area, gathered a lot of useful information while you were playing, I was doing the hard work." Tobi spoke with much irony and a mocking smile. Zack glared at him, anger bubbling. "I guess I'm an idiot, you waited for me to kill the elders to show up, you coward!" Tobi shrugged. "I don't hit old people, I'm not disrespectful to elders like you, Zack..." For a few seconds, they stared at each other, the tension palpable, before bursting into desperate laughter. A moment of relief amidst the chaos, a bubble of normalcy in a crumbling world. Zack approached Tobi, placing his hand on his shoulder. Tobi pushed him away, laughing. "Get off me, Zack, I don't like men." Zack laughed until he cried at Tobi's joke, and Tobi laughed along until he fell to the ground. "Wow... I miss this, that's why we were forbidden to go on missions together," Zack said, remembering the past. "Nanashi, loved those moments..." Tobi replied, his smile disappearing as he looked at the ground. "I miss him, Zack, actually, I miss those days."
Zack knelt, his gaze changing completely upon hearing Nanashi's name. "Can I tell you something?" Zack asked Tobi. "Yes," Tobi replied in silence. "After the house mission, I went to the cherry tree..." Zack's calm, slow voice filled the air. "Why didn't it work out?" Tobi replied, looking into Zack's eyes, his own eyes empty, without light, without sparkle. "Nanashi.... he appeared to me." Zack replied slowly. "Hmmmm, he's always like that." Tobi replied smiling, while Zack nodded, smiling too. "Thank you, Tobi." Zack said, happy with the conversation, a brief respite before the hell that awaited them.
---
Tobi stood up, the lightness of the previous moment dissipating like smoke. His eyes, once empty, now carried an unspeakable weight. He looked at the city in a trance, at the pulsating eye in the sky, and took a deep breath. "Well... Zack, the city has been planning this for over 100 years," he began, his voice serious, devoid of any irony. "They were sure a baby would be born about 30 years ago, but they were wrong and that greatly affected the city. So this baby was born recently, it was unexpected even for them." Zack listened intently, his mouth motionless, his eyes fixed on Tobi, the world around seeming to have stopped. The gravity of Tobi's words was a punch to the gut.
Tobi continued, the narrative unfolding with disturbing coldness. "The Polyhedron country always knew about Red City's plan, thanks to General Silva. Time passed and currently I work in his place doing missions in other countries. I was in Elthen, the poorest and most fucked up country of all, drinking with prostitutes and just passing through, Zack." Tobi paused, his eyes widening slightly as he turned to Zack. "I saw it! Zack, if I hadn't been there I wouldn't believe it, it seems like everything has a divine plan or some bizarre coincidence, I saw Elthen being swallowed by a golden energy that covered that entire filthy country, no one noticed, it seemed like only I did." Tobi's voice, previously controlled, now carried a tone of barely contained horror.
Zack was mesmerized, his mind struggling to process the image of an entire country being consumed by a golden energy, invisible to everyone except Tobi. "I saw the prostitutes I slept with kill themselves, start stabbing friends and clients, people in the street attacking each other and I saw children kill siblings and parents. I walked to the strongest source of energy, it was the core of the problem and every step drove people insane, I walked and saw rich people hang themselves and poor people laugh madly, it was a fallen city, I reached a window and there amidst stones, wood and a father eating his mother's flesh, there was a golden-eyed child sleeping silently, so beautiful, it was an angel, I tried to approach but two elders appeared and managed to escape quickly and the place exploded so strongly that you could see it even from 20 km away... I escaped and now I'm here, Zack, by your side." Tobi's voice was a hoarse whisper, laden with the weight of unspeakable horror. He had witnessed hell on earth, the complete disintegration of human sanity, and the image of the golden-eyed baby, an angel amidst the chaos, was the icing on the cake of his existential crisis. Zack didn't know what to say, his face pale, his mind refusing to accept the magnitude of the depravity Tobi had described. But, deep down, he knew what he had to do, even if they called him a monster. There was no other choice.
---
Silence hung between them, heavy with the revelations and the horror Tobi had just described. Zack, his face still pale, felt a knot tighten in his stomach. His mind, which once sought solutions and strategies, now refused to process the magnitude of the depravity Tobi had witnessed. The image of the golden-eyed baby, an angel amidst the chaos, and the certainty that the entire city was involved in a ritual to summon Skull, solidified a terrible truth. He knew what he had to do, even if they called him a monster. There was no other choice.
With a somber look, Zack turned to Tobi, who was still staring at the main square. Both their existential crises reached their peak. Together, they looked at the white crib, resting on the stone in the middle of the crowd, the golden-eyed baby sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the horror surrounding it and the sickly energy consuming it. The sight was a punch to the gut, a disturbing image that sealed the fate of many. The chapter ends with Zack and Tobi observing the crib, the terrible decision Zack will have to make hanging in the air, a dark premonition of an even more shocking and brutal climax to come.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
The Weight of Legacy
The square, once a stage of horror and religious ecstasy, was now a tense silence. The crowd, once a chorus of praise to Skull, was now a mass of empty bodies, their eyes fixed on Zack, but their minds elsewhere. The air was heavy, laden with the smell of blood, incense, and the promise of even greater violence. Tobi, beside Zack, broke the silence, his voice a hoarse whisper that cut through the quiet like a blade.
"Do you have recurring nightmares about D-Day?" The question, seemingly casual, hung in the air, laden with a weight that only the two of them could comprehend. Zack, who had been staring at the crib in the center of the square, turned to Tobi, surprise etched on his face. Tobi, however, was not looking at him. His eyes were lost on the horizon, as if seeing ghosts that Zack could not. "I do," Tobi confessed, his voice faltering for an instant. "With Nanashi. And with Momo."
Zack felt a lump form in his throat. He knew Tobi's pain, but he rarely saw it so rawly exposed. "What was D-Day?" he asked, curiosity mixed with a dark premonition. Tobi flinched, his discomfort evident in his posture. He shook his head, looking away. "It doesn't matter." He changed the subject, his voice now a little firmer, but still laden with a deep melancholy. "Have you ever felt free, Zack?"
The question hit Zack like a punch to the gut. Freedom. A word he rarely allowed himself to think about. "I try not to think about it too much," he replied, the honesty in his voice more revealing than any speech. Tobi looked at him, a sad smile on his lips. "I know." He paused, before continuing, his voice now with a tone of genuine curiosity. "Why did you always go first? On missions. To take the hits."
Zack stared at him, surprised by the question. Tobi laughed, a short, humorless laugh. "I always thought you were brave. The bravest of us." But Zack didn't smile. His gaze was cold, tired, as if he carried the weight of a thousand battles. "I went because no one cares if a black-eyed person dies." The sentence, spoken with a frightening calm, hung in the air, a brutal testament to the reality they lived in. An uncomfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the distant sound of the wind howling through the empty streets of the city.
---
Tobi sighed, the sound heavy with a resignation that seemed ancient. "Your father can't change that, Zack," he said, his voice a murmur. Zack just pointed to his own eyes, a simple gesture that spoke volumes about the prejudice and pain he had carried since birth. Tobi fell silent, at a loss for words to comfort such a deep pain. "Nanashi was always against it," Zack continued, his voice now a little softer, nostalgic. "He was the only one who supported us, who saw us as equals. The color of our eyes didn't matter to him." He paused, his eyes lost in memories of a simpler time. "I try to keep his legacy alive. I don't judge anyone by the color of their eyes, not even the violets."
Tobi let out a bitter laugh, the sound breaking the reverence of the moment. "All that bullshit got Nanashi killed," he spat, anger and pain mixed in his voice. "What good was a legacy from someone who died for a noble cause in a world of fools?" The accusation hit Zack like a slap in the face. "Shut up, Tobi!" he snarled, fury flashing in his eyes. "Don't insult Nanashi's legacy!"
But Tobi was not intimidated. He laughed, a low, broken laugh, as he looked at his own hands, as if seeing the blood of his friends on them. "I don't even know why I fight, Zack," he confessed, his voice now a whisper of despair. "I've become a portrait of a little soldier: 'yes, captain!', 'no, captain!'. I'm a joke. And the fuck of it is, I like it." The confession was a punch to Zack's gut, revealing his friend's deep existential crisis. "I didn't expect to see you, but it was good, the old times. Thanks, Zack, you're a good friend." Zack smiled, a genuine smile amidst the chaos. "We're in this together."
The conversation, for a brief moment, united them, but the reality of the situation soon imposed itself. "And the baby?" Zack asked, his voice tense. "I have to take it," Tobi replied, the resignation in his voice cutting Zack's heart. "You know what will happen if they..." Zack began, but Tobi interrupted him. "I know." The discomfort hung between them, the inevitability of what was to come weighing on their shoulders. "If I come back without the baby, they'll kill me," Tobi said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I know," Zack replied, guilt consuming him. "This is all my fault. Shit!!"
"No one asked you to be the hero of the country," Tobi cut him off, the frustration in his voice evident. "We planned for years, you were supposed to be a good boy." The failure of the plan, the idealism that led to the death of so many, including Momo, weighed on them. The mention of Momo visibly shook Tobi. His body grew heavy, his eyes lost their sparkle, anguish etched on his face. Zack tried to comfort him, saying that Momo died for a just, happy ideal. Tobi's response was a cry of pain and anger. "But what about me!? Am I happy, Zack? Fuck, Zack!! I'm a fucked-up, suicidal person who sees no value in anything other than fucking prostitutes and drinking beer in old bars." The pain was palpable, raw, unbearable. Zack, helpless, just agreed that they were choices and that the world was garbage.
The conversation culminated in a dark pact, a promise of violence between friends. "When we fight, don't spare me! I won't spare you! Understood?" Tobi demanded, his eyes fixed on Zack's. Zack hesitated, the idea of fighting his friend filling him with horror. But Tobi insisted, his voice firm, desperate. "Zack! Stop, fuck it! You know how it works." Zack nodded, resignation weighing on his heart. "Yes." They sealed the deal with a handshake, a gesture of friendship twisted by the promise of death. "Not in the face, so as not to spoil the funeral," they said together, a macabre joke that only highlighted the tragedy of the situation. Tobi, in a final act of camaraderie, disappeared, leaving Zack alone with his burden, the echo of his bitter laughter still hanging in the air.
---
Zack stood alone, the silence of the square now filled with the echo of Tobi's words. "Bastard, he always does that," he muttered, a sad smile on his lips. He looked towards the baby, the child's desperate cry cutting through the air like a knife. It was time to act. With a leap, he landed in the middle of the square, the sound of his feet on the stone floor the only sound in a sea of silence. The moment he approached, the chants and prayers ceased. Thousands of sunken, dull eyes, with false, empty smiles, turned to him. A chorus of low voices began to call Skull's name, the sound intensifying, spreading through the square like a plague, uniting in a single purpose of profane praise. The kneeling people raised and lowered their hands in devotion to the baby, who cried in despair, cold, and fear, with the blood moon as its only and terrible companion. The energy of all the inhabitants enveloped the child, a shroud of darkness and sick worship.
"I need to cut the link between the baby and the moon," Zack thought, his mind working quickly. "But I don't see who is mediating the ritual." He looked at the crowd, at the empty faces and lifeless eyes, and knew that the master of the ritual was hidden among them. "I know!" He pulled a location scroll from inside his clothes, an item he rarely used. "I've always hated doing this shit, I'm slow and terrible with scrolls," he grumbled, but there was no other choice. He bit his finger, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth, and began to draw letters and symbols, uniform and irregular, on the scroll. A minimal, almost insignificant amount of the ritual's energy was drawn to the paper, which from white, turned black, fragile as if it had been burned. The paper disintegrated, and black dust formed in the air, floating, dancing, before heading in a specific direction.
Zack followed the dust with his eyes, his heart pounding. It passed through the crowd, moving away from the baby, towards the right side of the square, where someone was camouflaged, hidden amidst the mass of worshipers. "God damn it! Mira's lessons paid off," he thought, a rare moment of relief amidst the chaos. He knew he couldn't move the baby; any sudden movement could kill it. He needed to cut the connection, and for that, he needed to find the master of the ritual. The crowd, as if sensing his intention, began to disperse in the location indicated by the dust, opening a path, revealing the figure hiding in the shadows.
---
As the path opened, the energy in the air became heavier, denser, almost suffocating. Zack felt a shiver run down his spine, a premonition that something terrible was about to happen. And then, he felt it. A smell. A strong, intoxicating, contradictory smell. Blood, cherry, and blackberry. It was sweet, but fierce and hot, a combination that messed with his senses, that made him nauseous and fascinated at the same time. The sense of peace that the smell brought was a lie, a trap for the unwary, because the energy emanating from the approaching figure was the opposite. It was an energy of death, of destruction, of an evil so pure that it made the air vibrate.
The movement of the crowd increased, a ripple of anticipation spreading through the kneeling masses. Zack knew that the source of the ritual, the enemy, was close. The sweet, cloying scent of peace and the overwhelming aura of death created a terrifying duality, a contradiction that sent a wave of nausea through him. He braced himself, his hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. The figure emerged from the crowd, a silhouette against the blood-red moon, and the chapter ends with Zack facing this new, unknown, and terrifyingly contradictory threat, the sweet smell of cherries and blackberries a harbinger of a new and even more twisted level of hell.
canonical reference for the book, organizing rules, hierarchies, and core concepts of the universe.
Aura does not define power.
Physical strength does not guarantee survival.
Ability is what separates the strongest from the dead.